Like Nothing Else
by starbuckmeggie
Summary: The best ever


I feel myself start to moan as Chandler drives in to me, my head hitting the brick behind me. His hand comes up to cradle my head, protecting it from being bashed against the wall. "Shhh," he whispers just before he presses his lips against mine, mostly silencing me.

I tighten my leg around his waist, my hand reaching out to grip the shelf next to me. I don't even know how we're managing this right now—I think we must be defying the laws of physics somehow—but it feels fantastic.

My lips tear away from his as my head lolls to one side. "Ohhhhhhh, Goooooood," I moan.

"Someone's gonna hear us," he whispers, his lips chasing mine.

"I don't even care," I answer in a moan. "Don't even care."

His hips thrust against mine more insistently. At the moment, I don't think he particularly cares, either.

The hand that's not grabbing the shelf clutches desperately at his back, the fabric of his shirt bunching beneath my hand.

"Ohhh, ohhh, ohhhhhh," I groan, trying to be quiet. Chandler's hand that's been wrapped around my back slides down to my leg, pulling me closer. I moan louder. "Oh, baby, there."

He loves when I call him that; he says it gives him chills. Which is fine by me because I love when he calls me that, too. It feels so very intimate.

I never imagined that I'd be having sex in an old storage closet in Central Perk. So I really never suspected that I would have doing it for a second time. But there's something about Chandler and what he does to me that makes me want to drop everything and get naked. I can't get enough of him. And when I decide I have to have him, it's usually just a rush to see how quickly we can find some place relatively secluded.

He pounds his hips against me insistently; the friction his shirt is creating is fantastic.

"You know," I gasp out, "this isn't really fair. All you have to do to have sex on the go is pull your pants down. I have to practically get naked."

"Wear more skirts," he pants into my ear. "Problem solved."

"Smart ass."

His lips move down to breast, long since freed from the cups that held them. He takes one in my mouth and I hiss, thrusting against him forcefully. It didn't take long for him to discover that I go wild when someone plays with my breasts, and he's been an enthusiastic supporter of the cause ever since.

I feel my orgasm rip through me with no warning; I bury my face in his neck, biting the collar of his shirt to muffle my shouts. My hips pump against him frantically as I find my release, the feeling just as intense as ever. I moan against him, grabbing at him desperately, my eyes drifting shut as fireworks explode in my head.

He starts shuddering against me moments later, his own voice muffled against my skin, a low wail coming out of his mouth. "Monicaaaa," he moans lowly. "God!"

I hold him tighter as he slams in to me, riding the aftershocks, milking this moment for all it's worth.

His hips start to slow until he's just thrusting against me occasionally, both of us letting out a little groan every time we make contact. I know that if we continue on this way, we could probably make it another round, but I don't know that either of our bodies could handle it again so soon.

I feel his legs start to shake, so I quickly disentangle myself, sliding down his body as I try to stretch out my limbs. I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, breathing deeply. He presses his face against my hair, softly stroking my overheated skin.

"You're amazing," he tells me.

I press a kiss to his chest, right over his rapid heartbeat, too content to speak. He bends down and pulls me into a deep, sweet kiss, and I can feel myself melting even further into him. I love what he does to me.

"Want your clothes?" he finally asks, and I realize that I've gotten chilly. I nod, and he rubs his hands briskly over my arms for a moment, pulling the cups back over my breasts. I smile appreciatively as his hand gropes along the wall for the switch to the closet's small utility light.

The light flickers on and Chandler pulls up his pants as I scramble about for my clothing, finding my underwear balled into a corner of the closet. I pick it up with disgust before Chandler snatches it out of my hands and shoves it in to his pocket. "Laundry," he tells me with a wink.

I shake my head and pull on my pants, feeling ever-so-slightly naughty going commando. He tosses me my shirt which I yank over my head as I shove my feet in to my shoes. Definitely easier to be a guy when having sex in places you're not supposed to.

I'm about to poke my head out the closet door once again when I feel his hands snake around my waist, pulling me back to him. I don't put up a fight as I turn around in his embrace, wrapping my arms around him once more. I listen to his heartbeat again, much calmer now, and smile. That steady rhythm is enough to lull me to sleep most nights.

"Can I ask you a question?" he whispers in to my ear.

"Sure."

"And please know, I'm fully aware that I might piss you off again, but it's a chance I'm willing to take."

I take a deep breath in through my nose. "All right."

"Is there anything else that I surpass Richard in?"

I roll my eyes. Richard again. Why is he so insecure when it comes to Richard? We were together years ago. Granted, the relationship was pretty intense, but it's been over for much longer than it lasted. I'm much happier with Chandler than I ever was with Richard.

I pause for a second with that thought, realizing it's true—I'm so much happier with Chandler; happier than I ever could have imagined. And until he started asking, it never occurred to me to compare him with Richard—

I realize something and try to smother my giggle in Chandler's chest.

"What?" he asks, his tone already bordering on defensive.

"Nothing! It's just that you're…bigger than he is."

He looks down at me, confused. "No, I'm not. That guy is like six and a half feet tall—I'm nowhere near that size!"

I tilt my head and look at him, waiting for him to connect the dots.

"What?" he asks again.

I remain silent. I really want to see his face when he puzzles this one out.

I watch as recognition slowly dawns over his face and his mouth drops a little. "No, I'm not. You're lying."

I shrug. "Fine. Don't believe me. But why would I make that up?"

"To make me feel better?"

"About what?" I ask, exasperated. "You already know you're the best sex I've ever had—why would I need to make you feel better about anything right now?"

"Good point. So…really? I mean, really?"

I roll my eyes again, this time for his benefit. He's starting to get giddy and I can tell he's moments away from doing the dance again. I have no one to blame but myself this time, though. I opened this particular can of worms. "Really really."

"Like, how much bigger?"

I sigh and cross my arms over my chest, making a mental note to keep my voice quiet. "I don't know the square footage."

"C'mon, Monica."

"We'll break out the tape measure at some point if you think it's absolutely necessary. But if you must know…well, it's not like comparing airplane bottles of vodka to the gallon jugs, but there is a significant difference. You definitely never leave me feeling wanting. Unless it's just for more of you."

"So, does that mean Richard—"

"Seriously—could we not talk about my old relationships? You're the best and the biggest. You should be able to live off of that knowledge for a long time, right?"

He drags me in to his arms and kisses me, backing me in to the door. I slide my hands up chest to his neck, keeping his lips to mine.

Why can't I stay irritated with him for very long anymore?

"We should probably try to get back out there," I whisper against his lips.

He presses his forehead against mine for a moment, his hands coming up to caress my cheeks. He sighs, then pulls back from me. "Okay. You go first this time."

I lean up to quickly kiss his lips once more. "I'll be over tonight, okay?"

"Okay."

I take a deep breath and carefully stick my head out of the closet. Not much has changed since I went in. I walk out as casually as I can muster, and hurry back to my spot, grabbing my now cold cup of coffee. Moments later, Chandler follows, this time sitting next to me. He drapes his arm on the back of the couch and I lean back, scooting just a bit closer to him. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him smiling, and I can't help but smile, too.

* * *

*A/N...hey remember back when I didn't write smut? I need to find that again. Also, totally wasn't going to post this today, but I could use some positive feedback. Is it wrong to beg for reviews? Can I do it anyway? Review-it's what all the cool kids are doing.


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